


Glimpses

by MustardGal



Series: Lavender and Daggers [7]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Fluff, Snippets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MustardGal/pseuds/MustardGal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tiny, one-shot snippets that focuses on Dorian and Lavellan, ranging from scenes from Skyhold to their adventures across Thedas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glimpses

The snowfall had stilled, leaving a fresh spread of fresh snow surrounding the area. With everyone still in their tents from the long night of evacuating Haven, the atmosphere was quiet, save for a small and steady wind that fluttered against their tents. It was the sun peaking through the clouds which woke the Inquisitor up, where he lay still in response.

His body still felt cold, and his foot was still completely numb. Despite the layers of furs on him, he felt a shiver course through his body. Maybe it wasn’t from the cold that caused him to shiver; memories of the night before still haunted his dreams. He had faced an Elder One, possibly a god, who stood at twice is height and more menacing than the Inquisitor Kievon had ever imagined.

On the outside, he had tried to put on a brave face for the others – but his agonizing and freezing cold journey had done nothing but cement those fears into place, and it wouldn’t be too long now until he let his fears show. His ribs were bruised from the fight, his head foggy, and his foot… his foot was still numb, but he knew he lacked two of his small toes due to frostbite.

Though, at that moment, the worst part about waking up was realizing he had to use the privy and he lacked the energy to do so. The tent was closed and the bucket was nearby, all he had to do was remove the covers and stand.

He took a deep breath and shoved off the covers, trying not to think about their current situation at hand – the survivors of Haven were in a precarious situation and frankly, he didn’t know what to do about it. For now, all that mattered was the bucket underneath his makeshift cot.

All he wore was a long night shirt, with bandages wrapped tightly around his foot. The toes had been removed and there was probably some damage to the feeling in his foot, which he wasn’t really looking forward to. He lifted his legs and shifted them over the side of the cot, placing his feet upon the fur rug, which was faint to the touch. He liked the feeling of grass underneath his toes, and now that sensation would be gone. A pity.

He stood from the side of the cot, a bit of dizziness passing over him and he sat back down in a heap.

“Inquisitor?” he heard the mage Dorian ask. The man had peeked his head through the tent flap, looking more disheveled than Kievon had ever seen him. “Are you quite all right?”

“Just stood up too fast, thank you.” Kievon stood a bit slower this time, bracing his left leg and shifting all the weight to his right leg. “I’ll have to ask for a moment’s peace.”

“Of course!” Dorian vanished behind the tent.

A minute after doing his business, Kievon settled back down on the bed and instantly covered himself in the covers. “Are you still there, Dorian?”

Dorian walked in and made himself at home sitting on the side of the bed without a word. He looked tired as he sat with his shoulders slumped and his usually perfect hair in disarray.

“Are you quite all right, Dorian?” Kievon asked, his face half covered from the furs.

“Didn’t I ask you first?”

“I would say I’ve been in worse shape, but it would be a lie.”

“Mm, I would suspect we are feeling the same thing, then.”

“Is there a reason why you’re here?”

Dorian shrugged, twiddling his fingers on his lap. “You scared me, you know. Thought we lost our Herald, thought we were all doomed for. But you managed to prove us wrong.”

“Whoever Corypheus is, he hasn’t defeated us yet.”

“No. I just wanted you to know that you inspire me. That’s all, I guess. There aren’t many people who do that.”

Kievon held back a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Dorian smiled at him, his eyes twinkling in such a way that made Kievon’s heart skip a beat. He had noticed straight away what a handsome man Dorian was, but hadn’t exactly gotten to know the Tevinter man all that well. He was a younger man than him, ten years at most – but the man was very, very, handsome, and dedicated to their cause.

“The way you’re looking at me with those emerald eyes… is very intoxicating,” Dorian murmured, a small grin on his face.

“They’re not as pretty as yours.”

“Oh, shush. No needs to diminish yourself. Mine are wonderful, yes – a trait of a perfect child.”

Kievon was about to reply when the tent flap open, revealing Mother Giselle. “If I may, can I steal the Herald’s time?”

“But of course,” Dorian said, bowing his head. “I look forward to our… conversations, Herald.”

“As do I.” Kievon watched him go, a smile now on his lips. Oh yes, he was looking forward to their conversations. He snuggled deeper underneath the covers.


End file.
